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Z does her looking back and forwards thing

I always feel a little thoughtful in the last week in January, because it contains both the anniversary of my father’s death and of my stepfather. I don’t do anything to mark or commemorate this, because I don’t believe in marking bad events. Anniversaries should be happy ones. One cannot help remembering, but that’s all.

I am conscious, however, that my age is approaching that of my father when he died. I remember working out when I’d be thirty-three and a third (conveniently, it was a leap year), when I’d been married half, and two thirds of my life and so on. Another fourteen months to go before I outlive him in terms of our ages.

Rather more cheerfully, this week will mark the sixth birthday of the Razorblade. Not today, I have never commemorated its blogday and I won’t be starting that either. Although if it’s still around in four years time, I might bake it a cake.

My sister Wink is arriving tomorrow afternoon for the weekend. The whole family is coming here for supper on Saturday, so we’ll need a usable dining table by then (the dining room is chaotic and I’m keeping out of the way) as there will be fourteen of us, including the babies. It’ll be brilliant. Weeza and co are staying overnight, so all the bedrooms will be full. I love that. I always have. Nothing better than a full house of people I love.

Update I was just publishing this when Jamie, who dropped in to help move the heavy furniture, came in to ask me to come. I was apparently needed to direct operations.

The Sage has cut chunks out of the door frame. He’s so resourceful. I’m lost in admiration. Don’t worry, it’s not ancient oak, it only dates (in situ, that is) from 1928. And now it’s part of the house’s history.

12 comments on “Z does her looking back and forwards thing”

Hello Z:Perhaps there is something about this particular time of the year that makes one reminisce as well as plan for the future? We totally agree with you about marking happy events and not sad ones, but surely a sixth blogiversary is something to celebrate?!!!

I like anniversaries (they’re a reason at least to focus our emotions, whatever they may be), but I refuse to let them rule. I remember Macy marking the fact that she’d forgotten a significant one, and I did the same thing last year. If nothing else, they remind us to move on – and if we forget them, maybe that means we have.

I find it very hard to remember anniversaries of any kind. My outlook calendar reminds me of birthdays though, including those of people who have died and it usually takes me a year or two to bring myself to remove them.

I do agree about houses full of loved people. It’s great. I particularly love it when I’m the last one still awake and I can feel the house warmed all through by them sleeping.

I had actually succeeded in forgetting the actual dates, but I seem to have moved back. I wouldn’t say that there are negative emotions, I remember them lovingly. But I don’t necessarily think of the event on the actual day.

The dining table was easily moved into the dining room which has a wide door, it was moving it into the further room, which is accessed through a narrow passage, that was the problem.

Ronan and Dora are going to stay over now, so the house will be even fuller. Woo hoo!

The Unobservant Eye of Z

Dramatis personae:
My husband, Lovely Tim or LT for short (though he is actually tall).
My late husband, the Sage, aka Russell.
My children: Dearest daughter Weeza, who has London Ways, is married to Phil. Their daughter is Zerlina Buttercup and their son is Augustus Bufo. Elder son - Al X, is married to Dilly. Their children are Squiffany Virgilia, Maximus Pugsley and Hadrian Swallow. Younger son - Ro married to Dora and their two-year-old is Rufus Russell.
Big Sister: Wink. She lives in Wiltshire, 230 miles away, but we're much closer than that.
We live with our cat Eloise, a black tortoiseshell half-Ragdoll.
Bantams live in the garden and cats live in the barns but we feed them and they have ambitions to be pets too. In addition, cows come to visit in the summer. Mostly, they stay in the fields. None of them has got a hoof in the door yet.
There is an annexe to the house, where Roses lives and her beloved, Lawrence, spends a lot of time there. Her son, Boy, lives there too.

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Updating takes too much memory, sorry - but then I'm not very young any more, so am hanging on to the memory I've got. Please don't look for any significance in the order - I'm not drunk but I am disorderly.

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Oh, what's the problem? This is hardly Great Literature. I'd appreciate anything taken from here being acknowledged, and I might change my mind if I'm suddenly proclaimed as the Literary Queen of the Blogosphere - but I probably wouldn't. Do what you like, just as long as it doesn't extend to defamation of anyone, even me.

Actually, you want to pass off what I say as your own, I might even be flattered. Let's face it, who cares anyway?